Snow Kiss
by SilverOrb
Summary: What you get when you throw Draco, Hermione and a bunch of hormones into Hagrid's cabin. Short and sweet. Draco's POV. Check out Hermione's side of the story at Blizzard Kiss.


_Are flowers the winter's choice  
Is love's bed always snow  
She seemed to hear my silent voice  
Not loves appeals to know  
I never saw so sweet a face  
As that I stood before  
My heart has left its dwelling place  
And can return no more -_

_**-John Clare**_

**Snow Kiss**

Draco muttered under his breath angrily as he began to wipe the spider-infected window with a rag in Hagrid's hut. He glared at the scenery outside, trying to find someone to blame, anyone, besides himself. He could make out a figure trudging towards Hagrid's hut. The person seemed to have a bigger head than a normal person should have… or was it hair? He squinted but it was difficult to see in the blizzard.

He heard the sound of the door opening, its rusty hinges creaking desperately and slamming shut almost at once. He turned. He should have known.

"Granger?" he asked.

He berated himself for asking Granger such a stupid question. It was not as if she had an identity crisis, needing him to remind her of her name every time he saw her.

"Malfoy?" she had asked, clearly stunned. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Detention." he said with a scowl. "McGonagall sent me here to help the oaf."

Draco noticed the sudden frown on Granger's face. Probably because he had insulted her boyfriend.

"Hagrid is a million times better than you!" she cried, her eyes flashing in anger.

Draco had to admit, Granger looked pretty, almost beautiful when she was angry. For a Mudblood. He cursed in his mind for thinking such treacherous thoughts about the enemy. Then again, Granger was rather decent for a mudblood. Besides, he didn't quite understand the prejudice over mudbloods and purebloods. He just pretended to be prejudiced like his father as well. He damned well didn't need another 'lesson'.

Draco looked out the window.

Granger was probably stuck here because of the snowstorm.

"Look Granger," he said. "Since we have to stay in this lousy excuse for a cabin together, we should at least be civil to each other."

'We can go back to hating each other later.' he added in his mind. But somehow, he realized that Granger would hex him if he provoked her any longer. Besides, his wand was with McGonagall. He could feel her eyes boring into his, searching him for the truth.

Finally, she looked away.

"Fine." she spat.

Draco was about to continue his pitiful duty of cleaning the lousy hut when Granger interrupted him.

"Where is Hagrid anyway?"

Draco was about to snap at her to remind her that he didn't monitor the bloody giant when his proposition for peace came into his mind. With an internal sigh, he wrinkled his nose.

"He said he wanted to visit his many legged friend"

The lump's reply would have normally intrigued his curiosity but he was currently occupied in trying to clean his hut in the first place. He winced in disgust at a stubborn piece of spider's web and used one of the cleanest shirts (which wasn't really in the greatest state of hygiene anyway) he could see on one of the furniture to get it off. He had to remind himself to take a long bath and put a few Scourigfy's on himself to get himself clean.

The rustle of paper jolted Draco out of his thoughts. He peered over Granger's shoulder (who was scribbling something down), smelling the delicious smell of cinnamon of her hair.

_'Her hair isn't so bad after all..._' he mused.

"What is that?" he asked instead.

Granger quickly shut her book and glared at Malfoy.

"Notes for Muggle Studies," she replied acidly. "Not that you know anything about it."

"I thought we agreed to be civil to each other," said Draco feigning hurt. "Besides, I do know Muggle Studies."

A thoughtful look quickly appeared on Granger's face. It disappeared just as fast.

"Oh really?" countered Granger. "On what year was William Shakespeare born?"

Draco laughed at the question. It was ironic; he had asked Blaise the same question just before he went for detention, after witnessing a few plays from the author. For a muggle, he was pretty damn good.

"Is there a point to this silly question?"

"You don't know, do you?" taunted Hermione. "Admit you don't even know who William Shakespeare is!"

It was strange, instead of the usual biting anger he would reply in, he simply said playfully:

"I do! He is a writer of great literature. He was born in the year 1564 and died on 1616. A fact any competent pureblood knows."

Granger's eyes widened so much, it looked as if they would pop out any moment.

"You just guessed!" accused Granger angrily.

"You're just disappointed that I'm good at everything I do!" mocked Draco, laughing. "Not only I'm handsome, but I'm also smart, undeniably rich and popular with the girls! I bet you don't even know how to kiss yet!"

Smoke could be practically seen rising out of her ears.

"How dare you?"

She stood up and faced Malfoy, so close until their noses almost touched.

_Kissing distance._

"I know perfectly well how to kiss!" she continued, her eyes were burning in anger. Draco subconsciously thought they were beautiful. "I know perfectly well how to kiss!" she continued. "In fact, whether I do or do not know how to kiss does not have anything to do wit-"

"Prove it." Draco said, smirking; though not as confident as before. He really couldn't figure out what was going to happen next. He wasn't in control of the situation anymore. His heart was beating wildly at the closeness between the two of them.

"I do not have to prove myself to you!" she shouted.

"You're just saying that because you don't know..."

Draco didn't manage to finish that sentence. Hermione had grabbed his face and met his lips with hers in a passionate kiss.

Draco was surprised, pleasantly surprised. It took a few seconds to realize what he was doing He was about to draw her closer when she dashed out of the cabin, probably horrified, not even caring about the blizzard outside. Leaving her book and quill behind.

Draco Malfoy retired to his dorm early that night. The book and quill that belonged to Granger in hand. It was entirely predictable that he slept with difficulty that night.

Draco woke up early the next morning, unable to sleep. He was about to summon a cup of strong coffee when he spotted Granger, the cause of his insomnia. He weighed his choices and finally decided to give her back the things she left behind first. Confessions and hopefully more kisses would come later.

"Hermio - Granger."

Draco winced inwardly. He had such a way with words. The moment, she looked up at him, all coherent thought vanished.

"Draco."

He tried to gather himself for a few seconds, trying to summon whatever courage he had left after hearing her voice. It was really silly. People don't fall in love because of a kiss, do they?

_'But people **do** realize their feelings with a 'wake-up-call' kiss...'_ his mind countered slyly.

"Here, your stuff." he finally said, pushing the offending objects on the table. "You forgot to take them with you yesterday."

Hermione blushed. Draco felt a warm glow surround his chest, suspiciously where his heart was. It was impossible, Malfoys do not show sentiment.

He was about to leave when he realized he wanted to leave a hint, however small, however subtle that he liked her. Finally finding what to say, he turned and said:

"I was wrong, you really could kiss."

:End:


End file.
